


Sleepy Morning Lovers

by raiyana



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 05:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15923408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: Dorian doing a little introspection on a cold morning.





	Sleepy Morning Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot I never posted this to the archive, oops!

He is rarely awake before the Iron Bull but the Inquisitor had chosen him for her party going to look for this Stroud fellow that the Champion seemed to consider paramount to find and so Dorian found himself waking at a time he’d normally consider so much ‘too early’ as to rather be a ‘late night up’ than any kind of morning hour.

The upcoming task does not feel quite that interesting to Dorian. He likes it even less because it means Bull won’t be sharing his tent on the road. His Qunari lover – _and isn’t that a whole new and lovely experience worth coming to the arse-end of Thedas for?_ – will be taking Krem and the Chargers off to look at the ruins of Haven, trying to see if anything is still salvageable.

Although he hadn’t spent much time in the small mountain town before the battle with Corypheus, it is a task Dorian does not envy; the tally of the dead is still unfinished. He would still have gone, even if only for the chance to watch the Qunari’s bulging arms shifting rubble; he’d _help_ of course, magically moving bits of building, but Dorian never has believed in self-delusion and Bull is _always_ worth a second – _or third… fourth… fifth_ – look.

Looking back at him sleeping in Dorian’s bed – smirking to himself at the fortuitousness of purchasing the largest possible bed for his room – Dorian feels something like softness fill him, dangerously close to thinking of Bull as that word he shouldn’t apply to someone who is – at best – his casual bed-mate. Iron Bull has fucked his way through most of the humans and elves in the place by now, and Dorian really wishes his pesky _feelings_ won’t derail him spending even more time discovering just how good that warm greyish skin feels against his own.

It doesn’t stop him thinking about Iron Bull as his _amatus_ – just in the privacy of his own mind, of course – especially when his eyes fall on the gift the Iron Bull brought him from has last journey to Val Royeaux.

Sliding on his new dressing gown – lined in soft lambs’ wool to keep off the dastardly cold of the stone walls in Skyhold that even magic seems to fall short against in the chill of morning – enjoying the smoothness of the silk, tracing one of the embroidered snakes with a small smile of amusement.

“Like your gift, then,” Bull rumbles sleepily from the bed, his good eye only half open.

“Very much,” Dorian nods, moving back to the bed, “I may have to commission some slippers to match – these shoes are _so_ last season.” Cocking out his hip dramatically, he glances disdainfully down at his feet – giving Bull plenty of time to appreciate the way the haphazardly tied gown gapes down past his navel, revealing his lack of any kind of nightwear. Putting one knee on the mattress, he leans in slowly. “Allow me to demonstrate my… gratitude,” he purrs, stealing a soft kiss, his fingers trailing over one of those defined pecs.

Bulls arms come around him, easily tugging him closer, that large tongue sliding into his mouth like Bull thinks he’s sneaky, stealing deeper kisses.

Dorian doesn’t complain, following the pressure of that large hand on his back, making small circling strokes over the soft fabric until he is nestled against Bull’s broad chest, trading soft slow kisses. Bull’s free hand is copying its fellow, tracing small circles on his inner thigh, so close yet so far from where Dorian wants him.

“You’re a terrible tease,” he tells him when he pulls back a little, only to whimper at the small pinch his cheek earns him, Bulls fingers brushing higher with every stroke.

“You’re one to talk,” Bull rumbles, sucking on Dorian’s tongue, “parading around in here, firelight making your skin look so very kissable and then hiding it all with _my gift_ …” Pressing Dorian closer, he rubs his large hand over Dorian’s skin, sending tingles up his spine. Dorian whines softly, sucking that tongue back into his mouth.

“You know, we’re not leaving for a few hours,” he mutters breathlessly, feeling the Iron Bulls rumbling chuckle vibrate through his chest in response.

“Better make sure you’re in a properly relaxed frame of mind for wandering around the countryside then,” Bull replies, his fingers gaining purpose with every move.

“Leave you with – _ah!_ – fond memories to warm you in my absence,” Dorian agrees, panting softly.

“Very fond,” Iron Bull agrees, hand moving down to cup Dorian’s arse, the heat of him feeling like a brand of ownership even through the soft fabric, “Kadan.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by hattedhedgehog's art, found here http://hattedhedgehog.tumblr.com/post/175888703347/good-morning-kisses-courtesy-of-dorian-update


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